English is not my first language sorry if I made mistakes
Pt 1
It starts off small. You always thought your life was enough. Bruce always gave you money, food, and everything a child needed. Well, maybe everything except love.
The manor always seemed big and quiet, never warm, so you stayed in your room most of the time, scrolling through the internet and rotting in bed. It got worse in high school. You realized your hygiene wasn’t good, but you were too “lazy” to brush your teeth or shower. No one cared anyway. You always told yourself you were just lazy. Just unmotivated. Just dramatic.
Then you learned about self harm from Twitter. You realized you could make the feelings go away by hurting yourself. So you tried it. Slowly. One cut.
You felt satisfied.
You quickly bandaged it.
Days passed, and the cuts multiplied. It was confusing. It hurt, but afterward it felt good. Then the regret came. Then the craving. The guilt ate at you day and night, but you kept coming back with empty promises that it would be the last time.
One day you went downstairs to eat dinner alone, like always. You hadn’t showered in three days. You scratched your oily hair and poured cereal into a bowl. Your arm was still numb from what you had done earlier.
Tim passed by, grabbing a soft drink. He paused. He noticed a smell. It was you. His eyes widened slightly. He always remembered you as a small kid with that baby shampoo scent. Not like this.
“Hey?” Tim spoke, making you jolt. It was the first word he had said directly to you in months.
“Yeah?” you answered, unsure. Afraid.
“You okay?” he asked, glancing at your trembling hands and nervous gaze.
“Yeah. Just a bit cold,” you muttered, clutching your hoodie.
“Oh. Okay. By the way, we’re going to have a movie night if you want to join.”
You stared at him like he had spoken another language.
Then Tim smelled it again. His eyes shifted downward. He scanned your arm.
“Y/N… can you show me your arm?”
Panic.
Your heart slammed against your ribs. “Why?”
Tim squinted slightly, raising an eyebrow. Before you could react, he gently but firmly grabbed your wrist and pulled your sleeve down. Fresh cuts stared back at him.
He stayed calm. Too calm. He looked angry and disappointed, but not at you. No. He looked angry at himself.
“Y/N…” His voice softened. He let go of your arm and pulled you into a gentle hug. “Let’s get you some help.”
You started sweating. They’re going to take me away.
Everything blurred, whether from paranoia or a panic attack, you couldn’t tell. Suddenly you were in the living room. Everyone was there. Tim was holding you, explaining something you couldn’t hear.
Wait.
You couldn’t hear.
Your breathing turned shallow. The room tilted.
Then a voice cut through the ringing. You looked up. Dick was in front of you, his face full of worry, his hands cupping your cheeks gently.
“Y/N, are you okay?”
Another voice, lower and steadier, came from beside you. Bruce was crouching next to you, his expression softer than you had ever seen. He never looked at you like that. Never.
Finally, you could breathe.
Bruce sat beside you and carefully brushed your hair back. “Y/N… anything that’s troubling you, please tell us. Anything you want, we can help.”
You nodded.
But in the back of your mind, you didn’t care. You didn’t want to live anymore. You didn’t want to turn eighteen.
After the talk ended, you went back to your room. You stared out the window for hours. Slowly, a thought formed.
This is your only chance.
After today, everyone would watch you more closely.
You took out the pills you had hidden. Your hands trembled as you wrote a short will. The letters were uneven and smudged.
Then you swallowed the pills.
Seven.
Ten.
Seventeen.
Twenty.
The room began to spin. You felt light, disconnected. Your heartbeat pounded too fast, too loud. You tried to stand but collapsed onto the floor, crawling weakly toward nothing.
Somewhere in the distance, you heard shouting. Your name. Over and over.
Then darkness.
When you opened your eyes again, the world was white.
Bright lights. A steady beeping sound. The smell of antiseptic. Your throat burned. Your body felt heavy.
A hospital.
Voices murmured nearby. You caught fragments. “Overdose.” “Stable.” “Lucky.”
Lucky.
You wanted to laugh.
The door creaked open. Bruce stepped in first. He looked exhausted. Older. Behind him were Dick and Tim, both unusually quiet. No teasing. No jokes. Just fear that hadn’t faded yet.
Bruce approached your bed slowly. “You scared us,” he said quietly. Not angry. Just honest.
You looked away.
A few days later, you weren’t taken back to the manor.
You were taken somewhere else.
The building didn’t look like Arkham, but it felt just as suffocating. Clean hallways. Locked doors. Nurses with gentle voices. A psychiatric hospital.
“They’re just going to help you stabilize,” Dick had said softly. “We’ll visit.”
Stabilize.
The first night, you sat on the narrow bed in your new room, staring at blank walls. No giant manor. No towering ceilings. Just a small window with metal bars.
For the first time in a long while, you couldn’t hurt yourself even if you wanted to. There was nothing sharp. Nothing hidden. Just you and your thoughts.
It was terrifying.
But the next morning, someone knocked gently on your door. A nurse smiled and asked if you wanted breakfast.
Later, a therapist sat across from you and didn’t judge. Didn’t accuse. Just listened.
It didn’t fix everything. It didn’t magically make the thoughts disappear. They still whispered that you didn’t deserve to live. That you were a burden.
But for the first time, someone stayed in the room long enough to hear you speak.
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Idk if you do request anymore, do you think we can get some more sh comfort 👀 with any gosling.
Gosling Boys | Comforting You After Self-Harm
Pairings: Colt seavers x Reader & Courtland Gentry x Reader.
Content: established relationship, costume designer!reader for colt. Bodyguard!AU for court.
Warning: Self harm obviously
A/n: Its not posted anywhere, but if you send a request, I will probably do it. Feel free to request this with any other characters I just wasnt really sure who you wanted to see 🥲
If youre interested, I've already done this for Ryland Grace
Colt Seavers
It felt like the five hundredth take of the same scene. Colt had either torn his jeans on the asphalt or suffered some other ungodly wardrobe malfunction. So here you were again, fastening a harness across his chest and rolling up his sleeves for continuity.
He watched you work. How could he not?He'd adored you ever since you started working together. No matter how many productions came and went,he still found himself looking for excuses to be near you. Working beside his dream girl on his dream job.. he only hoped you felt even half the same.
You reached around his waist, tugging at the harness to make sure it sat snugly.
Your sleeve slipped back.
"Those from the stunt wires?" he asked absently.
The words had barely left his mouth before he actually looked.His expression dropped.
You were already pulling your arms back, folding them tightly across your chest.
"Theyre old..." your voice came out quieter than intended.
"No, hey.. Im sorry," He lifted his hands instinctively, like he wanted to stop you from walking away, but never enough to actually touch you. Looking like he wanted to snatch the words right back out of the air.
"I...I wasnt making fun of you," he said, the words tripping iver eachother.
You kept your eyes fixed on the harness buckle instead of him. The last thing you wanted was for this to become a conversation in the middle of set, with half the crew wandering around behind you.
"Let's run it again!" the director calls out from somewhere across the scene.
You grabbed onto that interruption like a lifeline, forcing a small smile as you gave Colt a quick thumbs up.
"We'll talk later, right?" He asked quietly.
You nodded, unable to trust yourself with words.
"...Can i ask you something?" Colt asked, finally breaking the tangible silence between you two.
You nod faintly.
He exhails before speaking, nervous for your reaction. "...can I see them?"
His voice was so quiet it almost disappeared into the sound of the crew packing up across the lot. "I mean only if you want to. If youre not comfortable, thats okay too." His voice only grew quieter as he spoke. Honestly, he was more nervous than you were. He worried he was crossing a line, but he worried even more that if he didn't say anything, you'd keep carrying it all by yourself.
You hesitatantly stretch your arm across the center console. When you gave the smallest nod, his hand moved carefully lifting the fabric just enough to see.
His fingertips hovered just above the level scars. He never wanted more to have the right words to tell you how much he ached for you and to tell you how much it stung him to know that you were hurting so bad you felt the need to take that out on yourself physically, no matter how long ago that be.
"..Come here." He gently let's her sleeve fall back in place.
Instead of an uncomfortable conversation or a dramatic speech, he simply opened his arms.
You only leaned a little, but he wraps his arms around you entirely, pulling you across the center console. Its a little awkward and way too tight. But it says more than just "Im sorry."
He just holds you there with you head pressed into the crook of his neck, letting out a contented sigh.
"Ive been trying trying to think of the right thing to say all afternoon..." he meets your eyes.
"I just...hate that you ever felt like you had to survive that by yourself."
Sierra Six
"You know youre bleeding." Court drops in such a flat, matter of fact tone.
"Huh," you pause to tug your sleeve down. He had rather abruptly came in. Its not uncommon. Checking on you had quietly become part of his routine. Every pass through the grand house ended with a glance into your room, just to make sure you were there
"Oh look at that," you nervously laugh, trying to down play it so he wouldnt look into it.
As you started towards en suite bathroom, his hand closed gently around your wrist. Before you can even react his other hand is wrapped around the back of your arm, sliding upward to reveal your skin.
You pull away just one second too late. Hes already seen an angry red line stretched across the skin of your arm.
"Give me your arm."
"No."
"You could need stitches if it's that deep."
"Im not letting you see."
He exhailed slowly. Contemplating your stubbornness when he already knew. When hed already known. Seeing you startle anytime he reaches for your wrist. Disappearing into your room after a stressful day. Opting for wearing long sleeves even in the comfort of your own home. To him, blood isnt shocking. Whats unsettling is that youre the one hurting yourself. That he has one job, and that is to protect you. Yet he'd failed to protect you from yourself.
Instead of reaching for you again, he just ushers you into the bathroom with him traling behind you.
He runs two fingers under the water first, making sure it wasnt too hot or too cold. Simultaneously searching the cabinets for a first aid kit.
"Arm."
You knew there was no getting away from him. He wouldnt let up on this.
Reluctantly, you let him hold your arm and roll up your sleeve to rise it with utmost care. Youre frankly shocked he could be so gentle with anyone.
He shut off the faucet with the back of his hand before reaching for the first aid kit. The room settled into an uneasy silence, only broken by the rustle of gauze as he worked.
"...tell me if im hurting you." He said quietly.
"You dont have to explain..." he begins, smoothing over the edges of the sheer cotton.
"Just..."
The bandage wrapped around once.
"Next time.." twice.
He looked up, wanting you to know his sincerity.
"Find me first."
"Thank you.." you finally manage.
His fingers slipped between yours, giving your hand one quiet squeeze.
"Okay?"
His fingers ghosted down your arm, mindful of the fresh bandage, slipping between your slightly damp ones. He lifted your hands to his lips, pressing the softest kiss against your knuckles.
"...There she is," he murmured, catching the tiny smile that finally tugged at your lips.
One corner of his own mouth lifted in return. A rare, bittersweet smile.
It wasnt much. But it was enough to remind you that you werent sitting in that bathroom alone.
Pope gets so aggressive when he figures out getting on mood stabilizers fuck up your ability to cum quicker, in his free time (which is often) he gets you intoxicated and fucks you over and over till you cum and about three loads of his are inside you. He gets mad at some point that your not finishing as much as him so he gets aggressive, choking, knife and gun play being brought in which to your surprise actually does help you finish quicker. By the year mark of you taking your meds its like the side effects (sexually) are non existent. But bruises and marks all over you body are consistent in its place.
Hear me out... Pope helping you into a straight jacket. He's gentle as he guides your limbs, as he tightens the straps on the back, and as he loops the ones between your legs. Once you're secure he sits you in his lap, arms around you, and rocks you both back and forth. Symbiotic regulation. You're safe from everything -- even yourself -- because Pope would never let anything happen to you. He would never leave you wanting, either. A total loss of control that isn't absolutely terrifying. Instead, you're taken care of. For once.
// plot: post war, pre pro hero // reader (aka you) have a history of depression, and it got worse after watching your boyfriend die and barely make it back to life. you and katsuki have known each other since you were children, and you’ve spent most of your life watching over him, whether it was against your will or not. now, it’s time for him to watch over you. (in this story, there are individual bathrooms in each dorm room.) fluff with some angst
an: hi everyone, this is my first published fic since the shitty one i wrote when i was 12 on wattpad! super duper nervous, pls be nice when giving tips and suggestions, they are very welcomed! i do not use gendered terms in this one BUT i am a girl writing lines for the reader so keep that in mind! hope u guys enjoy and pls leave requests if u want!
wc: 2.3k
it’s 6 in the evening on a saturday, and no one’s seen you all day. you woke up, laid in bed, and rotted all day, scrolling on your phone and staring at the ceiling. no brushing your teeth, no bathing, no eating.
your friends noticed that you were acting strange a few days prior to this. your lover noticed as well. slipping up during training, falling asleep during lessons, even skipping dinner with the class to go straight to your dorm. now, you haven’t always been the most talkative, as you prefer letting your expressions and actions speak for you. you aren’t mute, of course, just not the most verbal either.
nobody knows if they should come check on you… or if you would even answer. as you’re lost in your self-destructive thoughts, the lock on your door clicks, and the door creaks open, slowly letting light in. at first, you don’t bother to see who it is and you continue doom scrolling… until you smell him.
your eyes slowly shift from your dim screen to the figure standing in front of the now-closed door. without a word, he moves to stand over you as you lie in bed. you expect him to scold you, to yank the blankets off you and ask why you’ve been being so shitty for the past few days. instead, he meets your eyes with a tender, concerned look. his rough exterior is long gone, replaced by worry and something more sacred. “you’ve been in here all day. i know you haven’t eaten.” you stare up at him with tired eyes and no response.
“(name),” he says, his voice slightly more anxious. you don’t know why, but your eyes begin to water at how gentle he’s being. “katsuki,” you manage to whisper although your voice is hoarse from your lack of hydration. he looks away as if he’ll break if he doesn’t. he bends down, his gaze elsewhere, and curves his arms under your limp body. your skin is dry and your clothes are old. “i’m not gonna sit here and let you waste away like this, dummy.”
you don’t protest at all as he brings you into the bathroom. “let’s get these filthy things off. don’t know why you laid in them all damn day,” he scolds, but you can tell that there’s no real anger behind his words. you sit down on the toilet, bare after he helps you undress. he turns the shower on, undressing as well. “what are you-” you begin before he cuts you off, “i don’t trust you to bathe by yourself. you haven’t fuckin’ eaten or had any water all damn day. we both know you don’t have any strength.” once again, you don’t argue. you know he’s right.
he cautiously helps you into the shower, stepping in after you do. he washes you himself, beginning with your neck and shoulders. “i know it’s hard for you. i know i didn’t make it any better by going and dying right in front of you,” he admits with a regretful tinge in his tone. “if it means anything… anything at all, then i need you to know that i’m still here. the earth itself would have to open up n’ swallow me hole to take me away from you for even a second.”
any words you had to mutter got stuck in your throat. instead, you silently turn to face him. your eyes are exhausted, filled with all the emotions you’d refused to acknowledge since you began feeling this way only days ago. once his gaze met yours, his breath hitched. his lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know what. your eyes welled with tears once more, only this time, they broke free from your waterline. your head dropped, as if you didn’t want him to see you cry.
katsuki stills, his heart dropping to his feet. he’s never been good with his emotions… let alone anyone else’s. your tears fall, mixing with the water with the shower. he lifts your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. it almost pains him physically seeing your eyes puffy and lashes soaked, and your tears are actively still falling. “i didn’t mean to upset you.. damnit. stop crying, please…” his words trail off. you’ve never seen him be so soft before, besides that day. the serene look he had on his face when he was near death had returned. like he had to be calm for you to be calm. seeing him like this, except he’s not bloody and battered, makes you feel a way you can’t explain.
your face rests although you’re still crying. you lean in, resting your head on his shoulder without speaking. he’s a bit confused, but he holds the back of your head with one hand, and continues to wash you with the other. time passes and you’re finally clean by his standards, so he turns the shower off and grabs you a towel, wrapping it around you. he grabs a spare one from the cabinet below your sink and wraps it around his waist. “you gotta brush your teeth,” he says while you both stand by the sink, still dripping. you stare up at him, eyes still slightly puffy and very tired. you have no energy due to not having eaten all day. he sighs and sits you down on your toilet (with the cover down). you watch him grab your tooth brush and tooth paste, doing everything someone would do if they’re about to brush their teeth.
he turns towards you, “open.” you give a confused look, and he glares in response. “open your mouth,” he says sternly. he knows you think this is weird, and he knows you’re gonna be stubborn regardless of your mental and physical state. once he gives you that look, you know he’s not playing around, so you open your mouth just enough for the toothbrush to fit. your eyes dart around awkwardly as he brushes your teeth with… practiced precision? has he done this before? he’s managing to get in places where most of the grime is. “can’t believe you laid around with morning breath all day,” he scolds. he doesn’t linger on it for too long because he knows it’s hard for you to help it.
he finishes up and makes you rinse your mouth out. once he’s done with that, he fully dries you off, helps you moisturize and do your skincare, and gives you his hoodie to wear. since you’ve stolen half of his closet, he just grabs some of his clothes from your dresser to wear. “i’ll be back, don’t do anything stupid while i’m gone.” even though he didn’t say it, you knew he was going to do his post-shower routine. he didn’t have such soft skin and hair for no reason.
after he leaves, you begin to notice just how hungry you truly are. your stomach feels like you swallowed needles from your lack of nutrition. his words echo in your head, telling you not to do anything stupid. you decide that going to get a snack isn’t stupid at all, ignoring your state of weakness. you throw on some sweatpants and walk down the hall, clutching your stomach. your house slippers make a noise every time your feet sweep the floor. “(name), is that you?” you hear from behind you. you turn to see shoji, mentally cursing yourself for letting someone see you like this. you force a meek smile, “hi shoji.” he’s not wearing his mask, and you can see the worry on his face. “you don’t look so good… are you alright? i don’t think anyone’s seen you all day now that i think about it.” blood rushes to your face as you try to come up with an excuse on the spot. “i was really tired after yesterday’s quirk exercise… really pushed my limits,” you say with a nervous chuckle.
he’s obviously suspicious, but he doesn’t pry any further. “well, there’s some okonomiyaki in the kitchen. i know you’re hungry since you’ve been asleep all day,” he suggests. your eyes light up at the fact that there’s real food, since you were originally just gonna eat whatever was in the pantry. “that sounds so good right now, thank you shoji.” he smiles and walks back to his room, still a little concerned for your health but glad you’re going to eat.
you slowly but surely make your way down the stairs and towards the kitchen, surprised and relieved to see that there’s no one down there. you smell the savory pancakes from a mile away, making your stomach jump for joy. right as you’re about to reach the counter… you trip. trip? on a shoe?? why is there a shoe in the kitchen? next thing you know, you don’t have the energy to catch yourself and you fall.. hitting your head on a cabinet door.
“ughh,” is all you can croak out. luckily, you didn’t lose consciousness… unluckily, someone just so happened to be on his way back to your dorm when he heard a loud thump from downstairs.
that someone was katsuki.
he doesn’t even know what to say when he finds you. he just crouches and checks your pulse. his hands are shaking. “katsuki.. stop, i’m fine.” he releases the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “what the fuck were you doing? i told you not to do anything stupid,” he tries to sound angry but it comes out full of worry instead. “i was hungry,” you sigh, rubbing your forehead while still on the ground. you didn’t register the pain at first, but now it’s hitting you in an aching and throbbing sensation. he stares at you for a beat longer, hoists you up off the ground, and puts you on his back. why is he so strong? “put me down!” you say, squirming in his hold. your mind is set on the food awaiting you a few feet away. “no chance, i’m not letting you outta my sight,” he huffs. “you don’t have to! i just wanna eat man.”
he rolls his eyes and sets you onto a nearby chair. he gives you a look with narrowed eyes, silently commanding you to stay put. your leg starts bouncing involuntarily as you wait for him to bring you your food. the plate placed in front of you could’ve brought tears to your eyes. not only was it still hot and smelled heavenly, but he cut fresh green onions and put them on the side for you! where did he even get those? he handed you a fork and your favorite drink and sat beside you. you turn to find his eyes already directed at you. “sooo.. you’re just gonna sit here and watch me eat? not even get some for yourself?” he shakes his head with an 'mm-mm'. “weirdo…” you mutter to which he flicks you on your arm. you frown at him before turning your attention back to the savory pancake in front of you.
you were so hungry that your stomach started growling AS you were eating. when katsuki heard it, his eyes widened in disbelief. “if you do this shit again, i will never leave you alone for the rest of my life.” you could tell he was dead serious, so you just gave him a side eye and continued eating. when you were done, he took your plate, cup, and fork and washed them all himself. when he was done, he walks back to you and grabs your hand, muttering “come on.”
“where are you taking me now?” you question impatiently. you’ve been involuntarily moving all day and you’re starting to get tired of it. though, it's not as bad as before with your newfound strength after the meal. no response is given to you as you approach HIS dorm instead of yours. “katsuki!” you exclaim in attempt to get him to answer you. he opens his door and drags you in. you’re hit with warmth and the scent of musky vanilla. “you’re sleeping with me tonight, he huffs.
“it’s not even my bedtime.. i’m not tired at all.”
“doesn’t matter. you’re staying here ‘till you are.”
“what about my games? my snacks?? my pajamas!”
“you don’t need your games, you’re spending time with me. i have snacks in here and you can wear one of my shirts. there’s literally no reason for you to leave.”
“katsuki, you get on my nerves.”
“yeah yeah whatever. pick a show while i find you a shirt.”
after you two bicker, katsuki hands you a shirt and you change, not caring to go in the bathroom since he’s your boyfriend. you settle on a show and climb into his bed, secretly basking in his scent. he climbs over you to get to the other side, now shirtless, propping himself up behind you so that he can see the tv over your silhouette.
you get through a few episodes before you turn to find your boyfriend absolutely slumped. you’re a bit tired now, so you roll your eyes, turn the show off, and get a little closer to him. now, you're in the same position you were in before he found you, except this time, he's with you, keeping you grounded. you spend your last few moments awake enjoying the warmth that’s radiating off of him, and being thankful that you somehow managed to steal the heart of katsuki bakugou.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
non canon event for my fic on Ao3 Here Comes the Bride.
reader is mentally unwell.
a/n i do not want to talk about how many different times i typed this up omfg... thanks for liking it here i 'preciate that muchly xx
“Don’t touch me!’
You jerked back, not from fear, but confusion. The scream had echoed through the recreational building, an unholy thing filled with terror. Had it been anyone else you’d have been able to ignore it, to wave it off as just part of the ambiance. But it had only taken a moment for it to filter through that you knew the voice, which had sent you running blindly in what you hoped was the right direction.
Doubt your ability to find the love of your life? Never again, your navigation had been flawless. But outside of his hair slightly mussed, and that he was breathing too hard, he didn’t seem hurt. Pacing a hole in the floor, but not injured, and you’d only reached out to touch him because he hadn’t acknowledged you saying his name three times. Gaze shifting to the mannekins laying strewn about the floor, you began to straighten them, unsure how to rescue the fabric.
It hurt that he kept the distance between you, moving as you did, his gaze a heavy thing you felt like the heel of a hand pressing against your chest. Outside a bit of blood on the dresses you didn’t see a body, and it wasn’t like he was afraid of vermin. Far too strapping for that sort of foolishness he’d assured you when you’d apologized for jumping when a mouse had scuttled over your foot. So what had happened?
“Where were you?’
Well that was easy, making sure that the records hadn’t gotten stuck again. Eddie worked hard on those displays, and the music was important, each one had a specific mood that needed catering to. He didn’t seem to like that answer, and you hesitated in righting a mannekin to watch him. There was a tightness to his face, your chin resting on the neck as you tried to puzzle it out. But he definitely didn’t like that either, crossing his arms over his chest as if daring you to say something.
By the time you realized you’d been quiet too long, his lips had pressed together, biceps stretching the shirt as his hands curled into fists. You didn’t move as he stalked towards you, reaching out for your chin which you offered out of habit. It did hurt a little, but that was okay, he was upset, something had upset your beloved Eddie.
“Where. Were. Y-’
“Did you have a nightmare?’
Though your voice was low, he reacted as if you’d shouted at him, briefly looking panicked before the expression was quickly hidden away. But you could see the shadow of it in his eyes, though it got a bit harder when your own blurred from the punishing grip. If he needed you to cry for him you could do that, hands settling on his forearm gently to silently tell him it was okay. Or would be, taking a step closer, your toes brushing the tops of his shoes.
“Let’s go to bed, it’s been a long day.’
Not that you actually had days anymore, but you could feel the tremor in his forearm now. Whatever had happened had shaken him badly, so much so he didn’t just not want to talk about it, he was willfully ignoring it had happened at all. Well then it was time for a restart, gently pulling at his wrist until he lowered it. Good, good, slowly guiding him into the starting position he’d shown you, you smiled up at him as his hand settled on your waist.
A proper gentleman your Eddie, giving his lifted hand a squeeze and feeling the hand at your waist slowly shift to your lower back. Even better, you hadn’t like that distance you could still feel though his every inhale pressed you back slightly. Humming as he slowly waltzed you to your room, you refused to let go to crawl into bed. A brief flash of irritation was better than the hollow look that you kept catching in his eyes when he forgot he was supposed to be hiding
“Let go of me.’ He finally managed, giving his hand a tug despite the fact it hadn’t worked the last few times.
“I'll never let you go.’
Leaning backwards, you felt like you were practically horizontal by the time he followed you the rest of the way into the room. Another brief battle of wills as you awkwardly crawled into bed and kept hold of his hand, but you managed. When he realized leaving was not going to be an option he sighed, motioning at his clothing clearly unwilling to climb into bed fully dressed. Tough. Stubbornly keeping hold, he eventually tugged the bow tie loose and tossed it aside before sitting on the bed with one knee crooked to stare at you.
It was a small victory, but you were greedy, tugging until he shifted, moving to rest his head on your stomach. That could not be comfortable, looking at the way the rest of his body hung over the side of the metal frame. Baby steps then, fingertips tracing the line between scalp and hair as he faced away from you. Not ideal, but he was letting you touch him, more now actually that you were thinking about it. Humming softly, you lightly scratched his scalp with each note, playing with the melody even as you tried to puzzle out what had happened.
“That’s nice.’
Oh a compliment? Much better, growing brazen as you threaded your fingers through his hair, lightly tugging at it in a silent offer to please get further on the bed even if it meant squishing you. Your pleasure that he did was not quantifiable, feeling him resettle with his head over your heart and a hand smoothing from waist to hip and back again. It would be nice if he also decided to tell you what had happened, what memory had made him scream like that. But that might be a bit far a reach even for you.
Happily sinking into the coziness of his using you like a very willing teddy bear, you missed what he said and kicked yourself. It wasn’t as if you had the option to ask him to repeat himself. It had probably been hard enough admitting it the first time, straining your brain to try and force yourself to remember.
“I would never hurt our children that way, you must know that.’
“I do.’
Like what? Had his father beat him? What an ass. … Or had he-
“Good, good, I’ll make sure they’re safe. … Even from you.’ That… was a threat, so why did it give you butterflies in your stomach and make you want to kiss the top of his head? “My children will be safe.’
“Yes they will.’
A little disheartening that he’d put so much emphasis on the word my, but you could work on that problem later, trailing your fingers along his upper back as he pulled your body closer and seemed to believe it was possible to force his face through your sternum in order to see your heart properly. He already had it, but if he’d prefer stitching his name into it that was just fine.
Your boyfriend, Suguru Geto, has always known about your struggles, and you have known about his. It was almost a silent agreement between you both to check up on each other.
That’s why when he got home and saw you, bandaids haphazardly placed along your upper thighs, he felt his heart drop.
That’s why, when you saw that he saw, you couldn’t help but freeze.
He approached you slowly, sitting down on the bed beside you. Before you could open your mouth to beg for forgiveness, to explain, he pulled you into his arms.
He whispered soothing words as you broke down in his arms. He listened to everything you had to say patiently. He didn’t get mad, didn’t berate you, he was just… there. And that was enough.
While he hadn’t experienced this struggle specifically, he knew you did. He loved you, he understood how you felt to some extent. No matter what, he would be there. He will be there.
Guys I had the most random yet coolest idea ever about Superman,I have never watched the film but whatever this idea is so cool plus I never write anything for DC so now I'll start.
A bloody kiddo
Part 2 here
Clark Kent x psychopath son! Reader
Tw: Reader is diagnosed Conduct Disorder with callous-unemotional traits because I googled it an it says it's the most common thing be diagnosed in children,Reader has complete lack of empathy and murderous tendencies,animal cruelty,extreme gore,Clark had Reader as a teenager,your mother left you,reader kills his entire classroom,so teenagers slaughter I guess.
Clark wished he could say you reminded him of himself when he was a teenager. He really does. And yet,you two couldn't be more different. And he finally,finally realizes that when he sees all that blood. So much blood...
It had all started when you were just a kid. He must admit it,you were a mistake. Unplanned,he had you with a girl who didn't want anything to do with you after you were born. He had to agree to let her leave and take care of you alone for her not to get an abortion. His parents were worried and angry,rightfully so,but ultimately they supported him. And as soon as he saw you in the hospital,he knew he was done. You were the cutest little baby,chunky and healty and perfect. A boy with his eyes and a few raven locks on your head already,just like his. He thinks that despite the circumstances,he did a pretty good job raising you thanks to his parents' help. But even as a baby,he noticed you weren't...like he expected. You rarely smiled or laughed,you broke all your toys,especially the dolls,and then just stared at the pieces,playing with the cotton from their insides. His mom told him that it wasn't anything to be worried about. Sometimes little kids are weird,you'd grow out of it.
You didn't. You just changed targets.
The deaths started when you were around seven years old. First,the neighbor's dog. They found it dead,it's neck snapped. Then he started finding more and more dead cats on the streets. He thought they had just been ran over by a car at first. But then it was clear that the killings were intentional.
The biggest one was at a nearby farm. You and him were staying with your grandparents for the holidays. You were eight. They were saying just how similar to Clark you looked and you were smiling,enjoying the compliments. No one said it,but all of them thought your smile looked weird. Cold,calculated,like you were acting. But maybe it was just a feeling...that was mostly what Clark told himself to feel better. Children always act weird. Nothing to be worried about.
Until he saw the massacre. A nearby farm. Every single animal slaughtered. Organs and gore splattered everywhere. Heads hanging from hooks on the ceilings,dripping blood on the floor below. Some seemed to have been cut off with some kind of laser. Others were torn open,seemingly barehandedly. Their skin wasn't cut or bit. It was torn to shreds. Bones were snapped,some used as daggers,stabbed into other animals' corpses. The farmer screaming,looking on the verge of throwing up,his wife laying on the ground,passed out from the shock. And there,standing in the middle of the massacre,was you. Smiling proudly at him,covered in blood and gore,clutching a cow's bloody rib like a toy. You ran to him at a superhuman speed,enough that some of the blood on you splattered on him. "Look dad,I have superpowers too! Just like you!" You said,smiling excitedly,jumping up and down. And for how much he hated to say it,this was the happiest Clark had ever seen you. Here,covered in blood,after slaughtering tens of innocent animals for no reason,not an ounce of regret on your face. He didn't know what to do. If he was a normal human,he would have probably have fainted by now,like the farmer's wife. "What did you do?" He whispered,unable to keep the horror out of his voice. You looked confused at that. "I tested my powers,but I needed something to test them on! To show you how awesome they are! Aren't they awesome?" You ask,pointing at a burnt,broken skull that he couldn't quite associate to any animal because of the destruction that had been inflicted on it. You were smiling excitedly,giggling as if showing him an art project. He slowly,slowly lowered himself to your level. He had no idea what to do in this situation,but he knew that you needed help. This was not just a child's weirdness. This was a clear lack of empathy towards other living beings. He wasn't the most informed towards mental illnesses,but he was sure this was something that needed to be studied and understood by a professional. He picked you up,gentle as ever. Yelling at you,or worse hurting you right now wasn't gonna help. "I am so sorry." He whispered to the farmer,before walking away. He needed to get you away from that mess. He was shaking violently,tears prickling at his eyes. What did he do wrong? What could he possibly have done for you to be like this? Able to bring so much death without as much as a thought? He had immagined this moment so many times,the moment you got your powers. How he was gonna show you how to use them to help other people,to protect the weak,to save lives. And now here he was,holding you like he did so many times,trying not to gag at the smell of blood as you stared at him. "Did I...do something wrong?" You ask,tilting your head. You didn't understand. Why was your father shaking? Why was his breathing so labored? It was just a few animals. You don't understand why he's being so dramatic. He doesn't answer you,and you just shrug,resting your head on his chest as he walks,enjoying his warmth. You always loved to be carried like this. If only he would stop sobbing,it's so annoying...
Conduct Disorder with callous-unemotional traits. That's what the psychiatrist said. "He show no sign of remorse towards the killing of those animals,nor any empathy,and we discovered he has many more violent fantasies. He has...we think he might have the same type of feelings towards people." She said,her tone a mix of worried and apologetic. Clark felt like he was gonna puke. Violent fantasies towards people. This was all his fault. He must have done something wrong raising you. Something must have happened,something he doesn't know about...you can't simply be like this. You're a kid. You're his kid. You can't just...be like this.
He tried everything. Spent everything he could on the best psychiatrists and therapy. Anything to help you. He spent more time with you. Tried to explain why killing innocent animals was wrong. You seemed to get better. You gave the farmer some flower and your version of an apology. It sounded rather weird,but somewhat sincere. You asked the wife if she felt better,and gave back the rib you had brought home with you after the act. She passed out again. You didn't understand why,but you helped carry her to the bed,which was something. Clark really thought you were making progress. Even if you didn't feel empathy,he was sure you could at least understand the concept of it. Why it was important. He taught you to control your powers and why you should use them to protect others an not harm them. You didn't necessarily like it,but he thought you were starting to get it. In front of his eyes,you slowly but surely changed.
By the time you were 15,you were known for your kindness. You saved kittens from trees,helped old ladies carry their groceries and cross the road. You were a straight A student in your school,with a group of good friends,all good people that made people sigh and whish their child was more like them. You even stepped up as a hero,determined to help your dad. You were extremely good at fighting. No matter how big the threat was,you always had it under control. And Clark was happy. Years of trying,years of believing in you,years of prayers had finally paid off. The memory of the farm and the slaughter was now distant. Still painful,but far away. You changed. He changed you. He saved you from becoming a monster. He saved the world from having to deal with a monster. And he saved himself the pain of seeing his child turn into someone cruel. So maybe that's why he found himself ignoring the signs. It was just too beatiful to ruin. So what if your smiles always seemscold and studied,unless you're actively killing something? You only hurt monsters that harmed people. And what if sometimes he catches you on the corner of his eye,staring at a civilian that got a bit too close to you with a gaze colder than ice? You just don't like being touched by strangers. You're not hurting anyone with a glare. And what if sometimes a person or two go missing without explanation,and even he can't find them? It happens. It always happened,way before you were born. Sometimes people dissapear.
All that shatters the second he sees you. Covered in blood and organs,smiling brightly at him. Just that this time,the blood isn't an animal's,if the human head you're holding in your hand,half crashed already,is any sign. "Hi dad,I stopped the shooter!" You said cheerfully. Your smile is the exact same one you had that day. Sincere like never before,large and red-stained. "Some of the students got caught in the fight thought." You say,shrugging. Your class. Your whole class is flodded with blood. Not a single survivor. None of them had any bullet wound. You killed them all yourself. This was supposed to be just another day at school. He was supposed to pick you up in two hours. Not stand here,watching as you play with the head in your hand,humming happily. "I tried your method,dad. I tried to be a good person. A hero. Now it's time for my method." You whisper after a moment of silence,your eyes softening,smile still perfectly in place,voice sharper than a razor blade. You giggle and turn around. He goes to grab you. You're faster and you fly out the window. He wants to follow you,but then he hears a groan. A guy in the very back of the class is still alive. One of your supposed friends. He has various broken bones and severe internal bleeding but he's alive. He needs to rush him to the hospital.
And as he does,a cold,terrifying truth finally makes its way into his heart. Nothing you were doing was real. He never healed you. He just forced you to drown out the parts of you he didn't think were good. He didn't help you get rid of the beast. He taught you how to hide it. You just got tired of doing it constantly.
